The truth was that deep in her heart, Lannahi wanted to sit by the harp. To let her fingers fly over the strings and her voice flow through the air. But she knew that music was her weakness and could not risk exposing it to her enemies.
Maybe after the Royal Sabbath, she thought.
In a few days, she would return to Blacktower. She had no desire to do so, but her absence would be noted. She had to show that by Challenging Lizaar she had known what she was doing. In a few months, she intended to slowly begin absenting herself from the gathering until the other fae began to forget about her, but for now, she had to remain strong in their eyes. They must see her as a queen, not a singer.
The problem was that for the fae, strength meant first and foremost winning over enemies. For them to accept her as the true ruler of Goldfrost, they needed to see Lizaar either humiliated or killed. Lannahi didn’t plan on executing Lizaar, which only left one solution.
She had to convince the landshaper to wear a collar.
Good luck, Lannahi thought, barely hearing the lyrics of the song Nazarr was singing.
The remnants of her pleasant mood evaporated.
Soon she would have to become a conqueror again.
***
The tension was palpable even before the words “Royal Sabbath” were even uttered. Uplifted by her success in trade negotiations with the artisans from Sapphirinetower, Lizaar let her enthusiasm shine through her armor and treated Lannahi as if they were partners, but as the specter of the gathering in Blacktower grew closer, she became reticent and remote, taking their relationship back to when Lannahi first arrived weeks ago. There had been no arguments between them in recent times, however, and Lannahi decided to talk with her openly.
After inviting Lizaar into her chamber and explaining to her what she required of her, the red-haired woman dug her fingers into the armrest of the sofa with such force that her knuckles turned white.
“I know you don’t like it,” Lannahi added at the end, “but I hope you understand why I’m asking you to do this.”
“No,” Lizaar said, barely controlling her voice. “I don’t understand. The only thing the other Rulers are interested in is whether you are still alive. You can attend the Sabbath without me. When they see you alive and well, they’ll know that you’re handling the situation. Not only do you not have to humiliate me, but you shouldn’t. The landshapers already consider you a mortal enemy. Do you really wish to fuel their hatred further?”
“You are thinking from the perspective of a Southerner,” Lannahi said cautiously. “You are primarily concerned about what the landshapers will think of you. Focusing on your humiliation, you forget that to many Rulers your life means nothing… that if they look at a map now, they see my name under Goldfrost, not yours.”
Lizaar turned pale, and her lips tightened into a narrow line.
“If I appear alone,” Lannahi continued, “the Rulers from Central Faeries will think that I have no real power in Goldfrost. They will think that if I can’t get a slave to obey me, then I won’t be able to persuade an army to stand on the battlefield. They will see an easy prize. Though they had never considered taking over a southern city before, they will now start to wonder why they resisted before. True, they may not assume the throne themselves but place a steward to rule in their place. All that matters to them is that their name is the one on the board.
“The Royal Game is not about our lives, Lizaar. Life passes, earth lasts, isn’t that what landshapers say? Do you know what will happen to Goldfrost if a Ruler from Central Faeries defeats me?”
Lizaar didn’t reply.
“I know you hold a grudge against me for what I did to you, but I hope that in the last few weeks I’ve proved to you that I care about Goldfrost. Can you say with certainty that someone else will?”
Lizaar clenched her jaw so tightly that the muscle on her face twitched. “I will go,” she said finally. “Without a collar.”
“If I thought that would be enough, I would have offered it to you right away,” Lannahi said gently.
A grimace flashed across Lizaar’s face. “Why do you think that’s not enough?”
“In Central Faeries, people approach the Royal Game differently than here.”
“Lesssymbolically?”
Lannahi sent her a bleak smile. “That only applies to the outcome of the duel. You can be sure that what happens after the expropriation of the city abounds in symbols.”
The landshaper remained silent for so long that Lannahi assumed she would ignore her completely. “I will go,” she said, getting up from her seat. “Without a collar.”
“Lizaar—”
“No,” the woman interrupted her coldly. “I will not conform to the whims of witches. We are in the South so treat me like a Southerner. If the Rulers from Central Faeries are too stupid to see me as anything more than a slave, I’ll make sure they change their minds quickly.”
After these words, she stormed from the chamber.
Lannahi sighed. Lizaar’s arguments were sound and she fully agreed with them. The problem was that the landshaper considered only her point of view. That the former ruler was ready to intervene if necessary and Goldfrost would still be able to put up soldiers to fight was comforting, but one problem remained unsolved.
